


I like me better when I'm with you

by roseey



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Busan to Namyangju, But he gets whipped af, Fisherman Soonyoung, Fluff, Fools in Love, Getting Together, Jihoon is oblivious, Kwon Soonyoung is smooth AF, M/M, Music Producer Jihoon, Namyangju is not a city but a village, Sea Shore, Vacation, family and friendship, i stole the title from the song, lots of flirting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:15:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22973125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseey/pseuds/roseey
Summary: Jihoon needs a break from his life in the city, desperately.He ends up visiting a remote sea shore village but turns out there is more to that.Like...a...uhm...a handsome stranger who goes by the name of Kwon Soonyoung.
Relationships: Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi/Lee Jihoon | Woozi
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	I like me better when I'm with you

**Author's Note:**

> New story.   
> I promise I will post Q&A soon!

Jihoon loved the seas from the very young age. 

His toddler self would doodle a sun rising from the crest and troughs of sea water, shining brilliantly like his mother’s marital ring against the gleam of chandelier.

Probably which is why he thought of escaping to kind of a place would be apt to his taste, where he could be one with the ethereal presence of nature, -his mind automatically gravitating towards the idea which is sticking somewhat to the dream place of his.

His phone vibrates against his travel bag, incessantly beating like the rackety engine of the bus he has boarded three hours ago. The place belongs to the category of coastal area, a little uncommon in terms of frequency of visitors and the overall capacity. There could be less options around to choose his preference from, and he may not get what he wants most of the times there, but at the moment, he badly desires for only one thing.

Peace of mind.

So he won’t care much if his high maintenance self finds a home in a poorly done hut.

Jihoon mildly cranes his neck to find if the old lady seated beside him minds the noise of vibration from his phone and when he notices how she actually does, he makes a move to sneak his hand inside his bag and switches it off, all for once.

Sighing heavily, he closes his eyes and slouches back on the cushion-less travel seat, the back of his mind instantly showing images of camera flash against the darkness of his closed eyelids.

On cue, he starts worrying about so many things- the worry that seems to be never ending in recent days. His work of composing songs has brought him weariness and doubt rather than the urge to objectively judge his musical piece for the betterment. That slowly ascended to thinking over on and on about each and everyone’s opinion on his discography. It almost felt like his mind has reset to act in a way what others would prefer rather than toiling for his self satisfaction.

And the cherry on top of the cake is the discovery of his sexuality.

The bus jerks and bumps, hitting the narrow roads of the small town located far away from Busan. Jihoon wonders if he made the wisest decision because, he is sure as hell that this place could use some basic utilities set up. 

The electricity wires are hanging too low and some are tangled with trees that are leaning too forward with trunk weaker than an old lady’s limbs. Poking his head out from the window, Jihoon feels the salty air smacking his face fervently and he could almost taste it at the underside of his tongue.

The image of this village is not so striking like Seoul city but he tries to tell himself is that it exactly what he needs. Willing to look at the positives, Jihoon tilts his head upwards to enjoy the warmth of evening sun cradling his face and he opens his eyes to find the blue sky existing with no trace of white clouds.

Settling down, mind void of thoughts, Jihoon almost slips into slumber when he spots the navigation board indicating that his stop is less than a kilometer. Urgently, he grabs his green beanie and covers his lush blonde hair with it, abiding by his motive of not wanting to catch attention. People who are non public figures are donning different hues of hair colors, focusing on fashion, so he assumes it won’t be a big of a deal if he could let his hair liberated from the confines of the beanie.

Awkwardly shuffling out of his seat, Jihoon makes a beeline to the bus door and gives into the movement of inertia when the driver slams the break, all too wildly.

Murmuring a curse under his breath, Jihoon steps on the side step, eyes capturing his surroundings inch by inch in micro level detail. 

Jihoon berates himself when the sky darkens soon, making his job to find a place for the night strenuous. He, in a haste and impulse, pulled and piled the first set of clothes his hands could reach from the wardrobe and boarded the first train to the Busan. At that time, he was not even aware that he would be required to travel to the village via bus. His lack of planning is making this escapade harder than his actual life in the heart of the city. 

Luckily, from far off, he spots a street lamp illuminating dull yellow and he marches off to that location with hope steady in his heart, however second guessing the route, scared of the dark narrow streets that seems to be endlessly prolonging. 

There is this whole worn down house he sees, ten feet away from the said street lamp. Now, Jihoon is not sure if this house has any habitants. His heart lurches in his throat, spookiness creeping his skin when the air goes too tight and eerily calm.

Perhaps, it is due to the way he got used to the bustling nights of Seoul.

Jihoon hesitantly steps forward when he sees the barest hint of luminosity from the window. He gives two hard knocks and when the door opens with a harsh pull, Jihoon stumbles backwards with a wet gasp.

‘What do you want?’ A man who looked like he is in late thirties, asked. His eyes are unkind but the orbs are sharp, mouth a thin line expressing the difference from youth to old.

The question carried no tone of politeness and it oddly gave Jihoon a sense of calmness. Jihoon’s identity is still in dark.

‘I, Uh...I’m new here. Is there any place I can stay for the night?’

Jihoon essentially planned to lodge at this particular residence, but his instincts are posing a huge red light to step away from this awfully built up house and the ambiguous look on the man’s face that is forcing him to crawl back to the safety of his haven in Gangnam apartment.

God, can he not get into trouble and let his life sail peacefully at least for a day?

‘You can stay over at our house.’ The man offers. ‘My wife and I live here. We invite travelers all the time because this house is located specifically at the entrance so most of us knock our doors like you did.’

Jihoon smiled a little, to keep up the politeness. 

‘Uh, I wouldn’t want to intrude and be a burden. Few pointers from you would help me a little, though.’ He’s beating around the bush and it is painfully obvious but the man sees past every point of insinuation from Jihoon’s side.

‘Nonsense, just come inside. You are welcomed to stay as long as you want.’ The man opens the door wide open and distinctly, Jihoon could smell something delicious boiling inside of the house. 

With the fear of darkness and hunger looming over him like a cloud, Jihoon tentatively steps inside against his better judgement. 

What’s the worst could happen?

* * *

The worst could happen is Jihoon getting stripped off his belongings in a village which he has never visited before and sporting a mild ache from whatever he ate last night. 

The issue is, he couldn’t even bring himself to chide his negligence of all red flags, as the shock that’s relaying is rendering him insensitive to all that’s going around.

He now has no clothes to change, his wallet and phone along with charger is missing and oh his wallet...his wallet...it has his black debit card and his driver’s license.

Jihoon sinks down on the bed he went to sleep last night and buries his face in his hands, utterly disheartened by the turn of events. There is literally no way out of this because he now needs someone’s mercy to return back to Seoul.

Hot anger seeps up through him, generalizing the whole of the village population as parasitic thieves, resisting the urge to pull his hair out in exasperation.

Jihoon closes his eyes and wishes to think of this as a bad dream but the image of his missing shoes comes to his mind, which influences him to let out a shriek in the silent house.

Understanding that there would be no use in mulling over his past, Jihoon scrambles out of the door, running further into the village in bare legs, his mind suggesting that exiting the damned place, to be a much preferable option.

Somewhere in the pits of his consciousness, he is firm that he’d pay a million to be at his home, now, at this very moment.

Jihoon plaintively recognizes the time of the day as well past the morning, from the way the sun shines down on him mercilessly, scalding his feet and the back of his neck in the process. Perspiration settles over the hairline of his forehead, as he takes small steps without diverting from the linear path, mind lost somewhere.

He knew one day he would walk like a maniac, lost in streets and now that it is happening, it quite literally pulls a chuckle out from his lungs.

Few more minutes of walking, the deafening silence is replaced with a lulling noise of laughter in the background and he vaguely recognizes that it is from kids. 

Jihoon moves in that direction, absentmindedly, using the tip end of his soles to walk as the asphalt gets too warm for his feet to bear. 

He feels the seashore before he could see it. The saltiness of the air intensifies tenfold and the blue sky seems to stretch far beyond, unhindered by tall roofs of the house. The sound of waves crashing takes the edge off his worry, a slow smile creeping his face as he makes out the hints of blue line along the horizon of sea. 

In all its glory, the water is pale blue and wind brushes his skin with minute sand particles, making him feel all sticky all over. 

Walking down further, Jihoon stands mesmerized at the sight of wide expanse of the seashore, sand appearing like white sugar and water playing tag, touching the land before reverting back to its own realm. 

A roar of laughter again gains his attention and Jihoon this time around finds the children playing far away from where he is standing. His heart swells with a particular feeling, probably nostalgia or lack thereof. Training himself day and night to pursue his dream career, Jihoon forgot to enjoy his then teenage time, growing up too quickly with responsibilities encroaching him. 

'Who are you?' 

Jihoon flinches at the loud interrogation, but he goes lax immediately, finding it ridiculous all the same. Being in a position where he has got nothing to lose puts him at peace, oddly enough. 

'I'm Jihoon, Lee Jihoon.' He says with his hands in his pocket. The boy seems to be a little younger, an inch taller than him however. His curious eyes casts a veil of innocence over his defined jaws indicating his masculine features. 

'Are you from the city?' 

Jihoon nods, presuming that the boy got it right from the way he is dressed. His attire is a complete contrast to what the boy is wearing- pale grey wrinkled shirt with beige bermuda pants. 

'Why are you not wearing shoes?' The stranger asks and before Jihoon could narrate the unbelievable story of him getting robbed overnight, he slips out his own footwear and casts it in the general direction of Jihoon. 

Jihoon looks at it like it is some puzzle set out before him to solve. Normally, the type of kindness he is used to is not unconditional. There was always an expected outcome from his side and hence why he would mostly decline the offers, keeping up with a polite front to not rouse bad feelings, explicitly. 

'No, I'm fine.' He chokes, moved by the gesture. 'You don't have to...' 

His actions however betrayed the words. The sand of the shore is prickling his sole with its grainy texture and the sun beat heat is not helping the situation. Hence he opts to balancing the weight of his body from one leg to another, all too subtly. 

The boy rolls his eyes at the faux denial. 'Just take it before you burn your feet.' 

The nonchalant benevolence evokes good feelings in Jihoon and sheepishly he slips his feet into the rubber foot wear, relief instantly crashing on him, akin to the sea waves. 

'Thank you...uhm..-' 

'Chan, Lee Chan.' The other says with a bright grin rivaling the sun itself. Unlike his worn down self, Chan is appearing like a star shooting through the sky with glitters sprinkling on all sides. 

'Thank you, Chan.' Jihoon smiles. 'Uh, do we have a police station here or something? I was robbed last night and I would like to file a complaint. It is pretty urgent because I have some important stuff in my wallet.' 

The concern on his face must have come quite strong because the playful look on Chan's face morphs to a complete serious one. 

'We don't have police station in this village. There never was a necessity in the first place.' Chan almost slips into a monologue. 'Do you remember how they looked and how it happened?' 

Jihoon closes his eyes briefly before staring right at the sea. 

'I came here the previous night looking for some place to stay. It was getting late so I knocked the first door at the border of the village- you know, near the street lamp, there was this man and his wife offered to let me stay over. They served me a cup of rice and soup and then I was dozing off from exertion, so I retired to my allotted room mid dinner. Today morning I woke up to find my belongings gone.' 

He expected Chan to sympathize with him, if he couldn't help him in any ways but the way he cackles at his misery quite literally brings about confusion and mild annoyance. 

'Damn, you really got fooled by that street lamp house owner?' Chan asks incredulously. 'You are really something, Jihoon.' 

Perplexed, Jihoon almost steps up to jostle Chan out of his amused self to get answers. Well, he demands eventually with a hint of plead in his tone. 

'Why are you talking like it is some joke to the citizens of the village?'

'It is, Jihoon.' Chan says, chest heaving with the need of air. 'He and his wife are some nutcase who would go around cheating everyone of us here with cheapest tricks up their sleeves and we would kind of entertain them by pretending to have our things taken away. It is our favorite pass time.' 

Jihoon, just couldn't believe his ears. 

'Seriously, _what?'_

Chan makes an act of losing patience. 'This is the reason why we never tell this to newcomers. We would just act like we caught the thief and hand back the things he took. The couple you met don't even know how to swipe the debit card, trust me.' 

Jihoon still stays skeptical, the village's culture shocking him in a way he never expected to be. Scrubbing his face, he meets Chan's eyes with firm ones. 

'Can you please find him with me? I swear I'd be out of your way as soon as this shit show gets over.' 

Chan waves his hand in a manner of dismissal, a small smile persisting despite the crystal clear sharpness of his eyes. 

'It is not that serious. Stop sweating out for this. You probably need shade because your skin is getting kind of pink and I'm worried for you. How about I take you to someone whom would be able to help you well?' 

Jihoon nods like a doll. Now that the boy mentions, he feels all sorts of discomfort magnified. Despite the light dinner, his stomach yearns for some more food and with no money in his hands, Jihoon deems it right to trust the boy he met few minutes ago and just take his word for it. 

Taking Chan's lead, Jihoon follows him out of the shore, passing by arrays of boats parked at the sides. He has never seen one in its magnanimous state before and he stares at it for good few seconds. Chan catches him gawking at it, embarrassingly enough. 

'We ride those to catch fishes.' He points them out. 'The one over there is the biggest one in our village. The hyung we are going to meet owns this. We set off to the midsea early in the morning and return back by eight.' 

'You legit catch fish for a living?' 

It is definitely not an unheard profession. Heck, the seafood he eats must come from people who work to retain them from waters and he sure finds the question dumb, now that he thinks about it, but he had blurted it out before thinking twice.

'Well, duh.' Chan levels him a look of disbelief. 'How do you think we make money? You either catch sea food or set up stores for people here.' 

Jihoon wills himself not to worry about the state of livelihood here. He is just a passerby who's aim is to stay here for few days and vent his worries out to the swiftly moving waves of the sea. Yet he couldn't divert his thoughts away from the inconvenience the people would face in the quest of meeting their daily life demands. Like, what they would do if they crave fast food in the middle of the night? Or medicine for head ache?

The path they travel distinctively turns from sandy ones to cemented asphalt, houses of medium size built decently covering both the sides of it. All of these buildings have a common structure- a one storey building with roofs, and a small garden encroached by a medium height compound walls. 

It almost feels like a suburban areas of Seoul. 

Chan stops before a certain house, painted in cream hue with roofs coated with dark tree trunk brown. Classic house colors. Jihoon is not even sure why he is paying so much attention to the architecture of the buildings here. 

'Come on in.' The boy says and Jihoon budges. The cool air of the house relaxes his warm skin and the interior decor seems to replicate what he wishes to have in a house built for him in outskirts of Seoul. While checking out the compact furniture, Jihoon almost misses the entrance of a lady in early forties- walking up to them. 

In reflex, Jihoon bows down to a full ninety degree and all he receives is a fond chuckle in return. 

'New one?' She asks Chan and the boy nods somberly. 

'Uncle Park had his way with him and he lost his belongings. I was hoping hyung could help him.' Chan makes a gesture sorts with his hand pointing at the inbuilt staircase and Jihoon too looks forward at someone dropping by magically from that place. 

'He is out for getting supplies, he will be back soon, though.' She says and turns to look at him. 'Why don't you take a seat at the living room, I will get you something to eat?'

A denial is ready on his tongue but Chan intrudes with amusement heavy in his voice. 

'He is the kind of guy who declines offers in order to not burden others. Typical polite city boy. Just don't ask if he wants something. Give it to him!' 

The lady shares a look with him and Jihoon shrugs, marching off to the living room, finding the tip of his ears burning from the way Chan elaborated on his behavior. It is something innate that keeps him grounded for the most parts, often appearing considerate to some and a major inconvenience when trying to bond with potential friends. 

The light white curtains dangles and sways heavily to the laminar flow of breeze through the french windows, a forty inch television attached to the wall and multiple flower vases with plastic plants. 

Jihoon badly wants to lay down on the leather couch and drift to a fitful sleep, given how the environment seems to match his mood.

Amidst worry churning in the pit of his stomach about the prospects of finding his stuff, Jihoon gets seduced by the aroma of food coming from the kitchen- hunger replacing the worry instantly. 

When the lady places the hot tray of assorted food, Jihoon just dives even without thanking her and it is something he has never done before. In hindsight, he realizes that he has never eaten something as tasty as this before, so his ill mannerism can be excused once.

Seafood pancake, fried and tossed scallops and a bowl of rice. The menu is humble but the flavors are exotic.

'It is so good.' Jihoon says, almost breathlessly and the woman, who was seated next to him with respectable distance between them gave him a particular eye smile, cheeks jutting out in that adorable squish of a kind. 

'I'm glad, really. Sea food won't taste good if it is made well in advance.' 

'How much of advance we are talking about here?' Jihoon questioned with a small smile, taking a big spoonful of rice. 

'Six in the morning. That's the time my son comes back home with fresh goods. Chan over here would venture out with him sometimes and they both will eat their hearts out before taking a bath. Not so hygienic in my opinion but the boys never listen to me.' 

Jihoon chortles at the very typical complaint come rant from a mother. It kind of reminds him of his own in Busan, probably reading a book with a cup of tea in her hand at this moment. 

'Well, we are very hungry and exerted from catching fish and dragging the net. Without eating we could pass out in the shower or something.' Chan defends himself and the _hyung_ who is yet to make his entrance. Honestly, when will he be arriving?

'Ah, please. I know my son feeds you plenty after docking the boat. He manages to wipe out the snacks in pantry before leaving to fish with you.' The woman says and Chan scratches the back of his head, grumbling under his breath. 

The way she interacts with the boy like his own makes Jihoon feel soft inside, momentarily forgetting about all the problems and the lingering state of anxiety about his work and life in Seoul. 

When the metal spoon makes a mild clattering noise by its contact with bottom of the china bowl does Jihoon realize that he has scavenged the food like a famished lion. Peering over at the tray, he finds the scallops and seafood pancakes gone and if he is close with the lady, he would most probably ask for another serving. 

Jihoon tries to carry the tray back to the kitchen but the woman swiftly takes it from his hands with a soft smile. 

'Thank you, ma'am.' He says, heart filled with gratitude. 

She shakes her head. 'Nah, it's fine and you can call me Kwon Jinhye.' 

* * *

Chan leaves shortly after a satisfying breakfast and Jihoon after a shower and change of clothes, spends a fun filled time with the elder Kwon, having the best laugh of his life and hearing stories about people he doesn't know at all. 

Currently, he is sitting on the counter-top, while the lady is invested in making a traditional korean pastry, the name of which not registering in his memory owing to its peculiar pronunciation. All he cares about now is the tempting aroma that wafts through the kitchen even with the windows open and a chimney to suck the air out. He slowly realizes his stomach is craving for another round of free food. 

'What do you do in the Seoul, Jihoonie?' 

Uh, well. 

'I'm a musician.' 

That is not going to specifically expose the scale of his work. Keeping it general seems to be a better idea than being completely honest or blatantly lying to her face

'You must be creative then.' She adds with eyes on the pan sizzling with butchered beef. 'I used to watch the show where idols perform on stage and give a prize at the end? I'm not sure of its name but I think to myself that "damn, these kids work hard."' 

Jihoon feels that it is an understatement. His work starts and ends with creating music, mulling and pushing for inspiration and for the right belt of tunes. Practicing to perfection and successfully playing out before a mass of people is not the easiest task to exist. 

'It is.' He bites his lips, not quite comfortable with talking about his line of work. 'What about your son's work? Do you think it is easy to handle?' 

The sound made from the contact of wooden spatula against non stick vessel becomes insistent, more of a background noise. 

'I wouldn't say I was very happy with his choice of work. When his father passed away, he was in the first year of his high school, always dreaming of moving out of the place to seek out a future in the cities.' She says as though it didn't pain her, when her sagged shoulders proved otherwise. 'We were too lost in misery that it took me a while to realize that we were on our own. My son began to take up the responsibility, inch by inch. Then out of nowhere, he told me over dinner that he would continue to take up what his father did.' 

Jihoon knows the feel of having one's dream shattered. 

He was almost pushed to the verge of failure and giving up before successfully claiming a spot in music industry. Sometimes he wishes if he could revert back to his former life style, spending his youth carelessly and fooling around like a regular teenage boy in Busan. 

'Is he happy now?' 

Jihoon just had to ask. 

'Very.' She turns over to showcase her gleeful smile. 'At first, I wasn't sure but then I realized he liked the wildness of the sea, the thrill and chase he earned from it kept him interested. Also, he grew up to be the village's dear boy so this territory has ingrained in his mind as his own.' 

Jihoon smiled at that. 

Not many will have that blessing in their lives: feel like belonging somewhere. Despite the need that burned through his veins to be at center of the limelight, Jihoon couldn't wish to stay there much longer than he thought. 

'That's nice.' 

* * *

As afternoon rolled around, Jihoon finds himself helping out Mrs.Kwon with her kimchi preparation. 

They are set out in the backyard, with a plastic tub filled with diced cabbage and spices thrown in huge proportion. Jihoon's eyes jerks tears from the sheer amount of its heat. 

'When will your son be back?' He asks after resisting for long. 

The question has been persisting at the back of his mind for a while but checking up for his arrival might soon turn anyone annoyed and Jihoon had curtailed his inner nagging for that cause. 

The lady makes a non-committal hum. 

'He will be soon back, dear.' She says, more focused on blending the ingredients uniformly. 'He is a man of many commitments, so it is normal that he is busy. Finding your belongings would take him less than ten minutes. Do not worry, Jihoonie.' 

The worry still prolongs, however. He needs his wallet and his phone to get a ride back home and from the way she speaks, her son would probably return home late in the evening. He just couldn't bank on anymore of the woman's kindness. 

'Mix it well, Jihoon.' 

Her words snaps him out of his reverie, crouching down on the opposite to evenly apply the paste to the cabbage. Well into the procedure, Jihoon flinches and jerks at the sound of keypad lock going off and he stands up, expecting the long awaited _son._

'Mom!' 

Jihoon feels a relief flooding through from the call and he brightly turns to the lady, hope surging through him like a wild fire. 

'I guess your son is home!' 

She however, tilts her head with sympathy. 'That's not him, darling. But he is like a son to me.' She straightens up and calls out for the boy who is her _not-son_. 'I'm at the backyard, Seokmin!' 

Soon, the tell tale signs of someone's arrival could be heard and there stands a boy who is much taller than him. If Jihoon claimed that Chan's smile could rival sunshine, this boy-Seokmin's smile is the actual sun existing in the earth. 

'Hi!' The stranger lets out a meek greeting and Jihoon waves back with a half decent smile. The symmetrical face of the man blooms much strongly with the widest grin he had ever seen on anyone and if not for the joyous curve of eyes, Seokmin could pass well for a model with that defined angular jaw line of his. 

'Seokmin, this is Lee Jihoon. He is from the city for a mini vacation I believe and somehow Mr.Park's shenanigans got the better of him. He needs his stuff back from him.' Mrs.Kwon recites in a single breath. 

The reaction from Seokmin's side was predictable. 

A short snicker followed by peals of laughter escapes in installment and because of its adorableness, Jihoon couldn't even stay mad at the man. The lady catches his thought by sharing a brief eye contact and they too share a smile, matching sentiments. 

'I'm sorry, Mr.Lee. Uncle Jinyoung can't steal things for life without giving away. Same goes to his wife. I'm really surprised and equally flabbergasted at the way you got fooled!' 

'Now, now.' The lady tries to halt Seokmin's amusement, probably intending not to hurt Jihoon's feelings. If anything, Jihoon relishes in this kind of teasing. His deadpan face earned him a bit of reputation and his intimidating facade prevented people from being casual with him. As much as smooth it was, engaging in banters seemed to be more fun than staying stoic with guards held up as high as the sky. 

Seokmin quietens down slowly, muttering an apology under his breath with eyes downcast and Jihoon dismisses it with a wave of hands. 

'Seokmin-ah, why's the idiot son of mine not home, yet?' 

'Uh, he is with Seungkwan at the beach. We are playing volley ball and he sent me to inform you that he'd be getting home late?' Seokmin ends the sentence with lack of sureness and Jihoon wonders what kind of a grown man plays sports on a working day. Isn't he beat from the work all day long?

Mrs. Kwon seems to share the same emotions. She points her gloved hands at Seokmin. 

'Jihoon, why don't you go along with Seokmin if you are dying to meet my son?' She turns to look at Seokmin. 'Seokmin-ah, take him with you to beach. He is in dire need of his belongings back.' 

Seokmin salutes with an enthusiastic "Okay, Mom!" and Jihoon quickly discards the rubber gloves and hands it to the woman. Following Seokmin out of the house, Jihoon throws a quick prayer that everything should turn out well. 

So much for his disbelief in religion. 

* * *

'Seokmin?' 

'Yeah?' 

'Why is that person we are going to meet is required to get my things back?' 

He was meaning to ask that to Mrs.Kwon. What power does this person hold over a supposedly comical and weak thief? If he needed a little bit of persuasion, Jihoon is sure that he can do it pretty fantastically. 

'Ah...that man, he listens only to our hyung. I don't know why. I never got a straight answer from either of the parties but whenever we see him trying to run away with our things, we would go and call hyung.' Seokmin says with a kind smile. 'The old man you met was not creepy or a nutcase before. Which is why we still treat him and his wife like our family.' 

A smile creeps up at their apparent healthy bonding.

Jihoon straightens himself up as the soft wind of the evening brushes past him. From afar he could hear the familiar sound of waves, accompanied by thumping of the volley ball and distantly he could spot cluster of men playing the said game over the net. 

But they had to walk a good ten meters to catch the attention of the people at the shore. 

He didn't expect Seokmin to jog off the remaining distance and Jihoon impulsively starts his own run before halting midway, watching the way the tall boy skid and jump over another unsuspecting man. 

Jihoon stays there far away from the shore with hands folded over the chest, finding the silhouette of the men against the pale pink and orange evening skies much beautiful. Even the beaches at Busan didn't give him this much of eye treat. 

Finally, someone comes walking towards him from long and Jihoon wasn't sure if he's the person who is supposed to help him. 

The dark shadow of an image gains light slowly as the distance gets reduced and the man appears to be a wearing plaid shirt and cropped black pants. His hair is jet black, silky even with salt wind spreading stickiness. The distinct set of jaw lines and pointed eye lines marks a striking resemblance to Mrs.Kwon. 

Without a doubt, Jihoon confirms that he is the man he has been waiting to meet all day. 

When their eyes meet in the middle, Jihoon feels his lips part for reasons unknown to him and just in, he feels his mouth go dry at the unexpected awkwardness. He was fine with Seokmin and Chan. What is so different now?

'Hello.' Jihoon bows a little and unlike the people he has met so far in this village, the person before him greets with a proper bow. 

'Hello, Seokmin told me about what happened to you.' The person says and pushes his hair back when it sticks to his forehead by the impact of wind. 'It is easy, trust me.' 

Jihoon nods in understanding, despite the germinating thought of "If it is easy, then fucking get it back to me!" 

The person must have caught wind of his inner conflict because he throws a reassuring smile and Jihoon there- loses his mind over it. The setting sun dusts the slope of the stranger's cheeks with pink glow and the eyes curve adorably that he barely resists the urge to coo at him. 

What in the world.

'I didn't get your name.' 

'I'm Lee Jihoon.' He says, tone a little squeaky. 'I'm twenty six years old, from Seoul but I was born in Busan. I'm a musician.' 

Jihoon is not sure why he is reciting his whole life history to the man with vigor but he tries not to question himself and get lost in thoughts, in the process. 

'So, Busan to Namyangju?' 

He tilts his head in mild confusion before it dawns on him that Namyangju is the name of the village he is in. He nods with lack of clarity or what it is supposed to mean but a huge grin breaks out at the man's face so he tells himself that he did good there. 

'I'm same age as you and yeah, my name is Kwon Soonyoung.' 

**Author's Note:**

> how's the intro? Hehe.


End file.
